


so take it off and bite your tongue

by pepperfield



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 17:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperfield/pseuds/pepperfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you can't even tell a girl, in the safety of a coffeeshop, that she is unequivocally the most lovely woman you have ever met, then how on Earth are you going to approach her in the middle of a nightclub?</p><p>It's a good thing you've got such a supportive bro to throw you into these kinds of situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so take it off and bite your tongue

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologize beforehand for:
> 
> 1) The title  
> 2) Kanaya being so uncool  
> 3) Anything else that is completely egregious
> 
> I will never apologize for:
> 
> 1) Kanaya + Dave bros4lyfe

Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and somehow, you've ended up standing awkwardly by the sticky walls of a dimly lit club. The last you remembered, you were trying to decide whether or not to intervene in yet another argument between Karkat and Dave about what to do on a Saturday night. Judging by where you presently find yourself, you assume Dave won that battle. In your hands is some sort of fragrant, fruity drink of a disconcerting color that Vriska had pushed onto you before disappearing into the crowd with a wink. For a brief moment you had debated following to keep an eye on her, but she wouldn't have appreciated it. Besides, now that you've gotten over your infatuation, you don't really have any reason to meddle in her affairs. Vriska may be reckless, but she isn't stupid; she'll be fine on her own.  
  
Which leaves you hovering out here, away from the crowd, trying not to spill your drink when people jostle you on their way to the bar. You take a tentative sip from your glass as you people-watch; it actually doesn't taste too terrible, but you would prefer a more traditional beverage. Out on the dancefloor, Karkat seems to be engaged by a girl with red glasses. He looks somewhat flustered but he's keeping his wild flailing to a minimum, so he's likely enjoying himself. His eyes catch yours and you give him a little wave, hiding your smile behind your glowing blue drink. A romantic entanglement might be good for him. Dave and Vriska often complain about Karkat's unsolicited advice, but if he were to be preoccupied with his own problems he would probably leave them alone.  
  
You wonder if it would be rude to leave on your own. Your friends are all scattered around the room somewhere, and it would be troublesome to hunt them down and tell them of your departure in person. A text would suffice, but your phone is in your coat pocket, which you left in the small closet by the front door. In retrospect, that was a bad idea. With a sigh, you step away from the wall to go searching for your coat, but that's when Dave emerges from the crowd.  
  
"Hello, Dave," you half shout at him. Even though you're a good deal away from the DJ, the music is still considerably too loud to hold a conversation over. Dave nods at you, which would be cooler if his hair weren't suspiciously rumpled. You see that he's got what looks to be a small scrap of paper in his hand. It seems that Karkat isn't the only one meeting new people tonight.  
  
"Hey. Saw you hanging out here alone." He surreptitiously slides the paper into the pocket of his suit jacket. You don't understand why he still has it on, considering the overwhelming amount of body heat emanating from the crowd. You're secretly rather proud, and a little touched, though: he's wearing one of your own creations, a sharp red suit made to fit his thin frame. Not all of your friends are as willing to let you design for them, but Dave enjoys your suits. He gestures toward your hand. "Are you seriously drinking a Hellacious Blue Phlegm Aneurysm?"  
  
"I. What. Yes?" That is a horrific name and suddenly you do not think you want to be holding this drink anymore. "Vriska gave it to me."  
  
"Figures. Let's go get you something that wasn't mixed from fuckin' gusher slime." He easily weaves his way around the inebriated dancers towards the bar. You've noticed in the past that he can fit in effortlessly with these people, even though he comes off as aloof. Perhaps it's part of his charm.  
  
Tending the bar is a bespectacled young man with dark hair, who starts to wave as the two of you approach. Dave practically throws your drink at him. "Goddammit, Egbert, I thought we agreed that this drink was bullshit. Also, stop naming things. Just stop."  
  
The other man just smiles as he pours out the alcohol. "Nope, that mix is awesome. You're just too uncouth to enjoy it."  
  
"Are you calling my lady friend here uncouth? Look at her. She is like the fucking pinnacle of civilized high-society broads, you don't even know how much class she's hiding up that skirt." Dave jerks his thumb in your direction. You decide to take his comment as the compliment it was probably meant to be, and speak up before their conversation devolves any further.  
  
"I apologize, Mr. Egbert. I was just hoping for something a little more refined." Actually, you weren't really looking to drink anything at all, but now that you have Dave to keep you company, you suppose it wouldn't hurt to stay a while longer.  
  
The bartender turns his easy smile toward you. "No problem! Do you mind if it's a little sweet? I think you'll like this." He starts bustling around as he continues, "I don't think I've seen you here before, even though you're Dave's friend."  
  
"This isn't really Kanaya's kind of scene." Dave is leaning against the bar, and in the minute you were looking away from him, has somehow conjured up a cup of amber liquid.  
  
"Er, yes, I don't often attend these types of gatherings." You hope it isn't painfully obvious, but you're sure that anyone who's seen you standing alone tonight can tell.  
  
"Yeah, I sorta guessed. I hope you haven't been too bored! This wouldn't really be my thing either; I just work here," the bartender laughs. He hands you a tall glass filled with a multicolored swirl of liquid. You are more apprehensive than before, but he shakes his head. "Don't worry, it's not as crazy as it looks. I call it, uh, Rainbow Drink??"  
  
Dave snorts as you take the smallest sip. "What did I say about naming things?" The bartender rolls his eyes at him, but returns his attention to you.  
  
This Rainbow Drink is actually quite palatable. You drink some more, savoring in the warm, slightly sweet sensations in your mouth. Hmmm, you hadn't expected you'd ever enjoy alcohol so much. You already want another glass and you aren't even finished with this one; you should probably get a hold of yourself and slow down.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Egbert, this was lovely."  
  
"Haha, I'm glad you liked it! And please, my name's John," he tells you earnestly. "And hey, if you're not up for dancing, you should go talk to my friend over there. I think she's bored too; my sister dragged her out here." You look in the direction he's pointing, and see a young woman with pale hair listening to another girl.  
  
  
Oh. Rose Lalonde.  
  
  
Your heartbeat quickens and you feel the first hint of a blush creeping onto your cheeks. Dave, curse him, has noticed your sudden change in disposition, and he turns to examine her. His lips quirk to the side, and you try to escape, but it's too late. He recognizes her too.  
  
"That's the snippy chick from the bookstore, isn't it?" He's smirking unabashedly at you and your blush worsens. "John's right. You should go and get your snark on."  
  
"Would that really be advisable? We've only met a handful of times." You don't bother trying to hide things anymore when talking to him; Dave is indubitably the master of avoidance and denial, so he can always see through your emotional disguises.  
  
"Kanaya, she is so up in your business it's like she's the goddamn HUAC and you are the unfortunate motherfucker who's about to get blacklisted for life. And by blacklisted I mean laid."  
  
"Um. I don't know if I want to get that far. I just want to get to know her better. She has very good taste in books." He doesn't believe you for a minute, but he just shrugs.  
  
"Alright, then, go and start up a round of 20 questions with Blondie. Or you could keep hanging out and watching Karkat's trainwreck dance moves." It's true, you really weren't doing anything worthwhile before this anyway. But here, you feel so out of your element. What if she thinks you look like an idiot? No matter how much class your friends think you have, you've made a fool out of yourself in front of beautiful women before, and Rose Lalonde is certainly a beautiful woman.  
  
John gives you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Rose is really awesome! She might seem kind of too cool at first, but she's actually really fun and kind of silly when you get to know her." You take a large gulp from your Rainbow Drink to steel yourself. Or to help you loosen up, you're not really sure which.  
  
You give Dave a sharp nod. You're going to make this happen. He awards you with one of his rare smiles. "Go for it, bro. Good luck."  
  
Placing your empty glass on the bar, you start walking with as much purpose as you can muster toward the two chatting girls. As you draw near, Rose sees you and her eyes widen a bit in surprise. A small smile appears on her face; was it because of you? Ugh, you can't do this but it's too late, it's too late, she's seen you now, and if you turn back Dave will never let it go. Keep moving, Maryam.  
  
You finally reach them, and Rose greets you with a loud, "I didn't expect to see you here, Kanaya." The music is dreadfully noisy in this part of the room. It's bizarre that she and her friend would try to hold a conversation here.  
  
"Yes, I didn't expect to find myself here either," you confess. She offers up a small chuckle and you grow warm. You are never going to be able to keep it together, oh god. Rose's friend giggles from her left, and holds out her hand, which you shake. She has long, black hair and the same pretty smile as John. She must be the sister he mentioned.  
  
"Hi, you're Kanaya, right? I'm Jade!! It's nice to finally meet you!" Her happy demeanor is infectious and you find yourself smiling back at her. But what did she mean by "finally"? You are about to ask, but she plows on. "Anyway, it's good that you're here! Rose refuses to dance with me, but maybe you'll have more luck!" What??  
  
"Oh, well, I don't really-"  
  
"Jade, please, I'm sure Kanaya has better-"  
  
Jade cuts both of you off with another giggle and a sparkle to her eye. "Or you could just talk! That's a thing you could do, isn't it Rose? In fact, you should definitely do that, right now. I'll leave you to it!" Before either of you can object, she vanishes into the mass of writhing people. You get the feeling you may have just fallen into a trap.  
  
Rose gives you a wry look. "Don't worry, we don't have to do anything. I think Jade's just been looking for an excuse to ditch me for a better dance partner."  
  
"I'm certain that you would make an exceptional partner," you say without thinking. Fuck. Your blush is back in full bloom.  
  
She blinks, and then smirks at you in a way you've never seen before. You fight the rising desire to fan yourself like some sort of swooning dame. "Would you like to find out, Miss Maryam?" Even though she's basically shouting at you, her voice is low and smooth like the drag of heavy silk against your skin. You shiver, despite the heat, and then nod before you realize what the hell your body is doing. She reaches out and offers her hand, which you take with trepidation. You suspect that you are about to royally embarrass yourself in front of the woman you've been infatuated with for the last few months.  
  
You first met Rose Lalonde outside your favorite bookstore. You had been about to enter when she swept out the door with a book in one hand and a knitted bag slung over her shoulder. You narrowly avoided a collision and she murmured an apology while walking away. It was uneventful and should have been just another commonplace happening in your life. But you kept remembering the barest glow of sunlight on her blonde hair, and the way she cradled her book up against herself like a treasure to be guarded. Her graceful walk imprinted itself into your mind and you felt kind of creepy even thinking about it.  
  
Your second meeting was much more fruitful. A week later, at the same bookstore, you were browsing through new fiction titles and weighing the merits of each one. You wanted a new book to read during your bus rides, but you didn't have enough cash for more than one. A soft, honeyed voice spoke up by your side, "I recommend the one in your left hand. The author is a bit heavy handed with his allegories, but the writing is otherwise simply superb." You turned toward your mysterious helper, who stood there with the same knitted bag but a new book in her hands. You tried not to look surprised, and instead thanked her.  
  
"I'll give it a try, then. I don't mean to pry, but what have you got there?" The thick paperback she was holding had a rather tawdry cover.  
  
She gave you a sheepish look, and told you quietly, "I admit, I also enjoy literature of a more pedestrian style. E. Ampora is so very good for one's trashy romance needs, if you ever find yourself looking."  
  
You couldn't help the smile that came to your lips. "I'll keep that in mind as well. Thank you for your recommendation." You would have stayed to speak longer, but you had promised to meet Vriska once she got out of work. You gave the woman one last glance as you exited, trying to prolong the moment before you had to leave.  
  
On your third meeting, in a small cafe near the bookshop, you learned her name. You stopped in for a takeaway cup of tea on the way back home from the studio, and noticed her sitting alone in a booth by the window, writing in a thin notebook. Her blonde hair was tucked back neatly behind a lavender headband, and her free hand drummed along absently to the jazz playing over the cafe speakers. You purchased your tea, all the while debating whether to speak to her or not. You rationalized that last time, she spoke up first. She wouldn't find it odd if you returned the favor, would she? You never actually decided, because before you knew it your feet were carrying you to her table.  
  
"Hello, again. It appears that we also frequent the same coffee shop." What a smooth opening. You're sure that somewhere both Karkat and Dave were shaking their heads at you. But she looked up, and smiled nonetheless.  
  
"Hello. I see you've finished the first in the series," she replied with a look at your hands. Indeed, you were now reading the sequel to her recommended novel. "If you've got time, I'd love to know what you thought." You gave in without protest, and took the seat across from her, telling her your thoughts on the main character and his heroic struggles to change the hopeless system in which he was trapped. Two and a half hours later, you both knew each other's favorite authors and books, preferred types of tea, and most importantly, you knew each other's names. You left the cafe that day, doomed. Rose Lalonde was snarky and cultured and lovely and you could already feel the blossom of infatuation unfolding in your heart. It was so evident that when Karkat saw you that evening, he didn't chew you out for missing your dinner date, and instead turned on your favorite vampire soap and brought out the rainbow sherbet to eat while you spilled out your jumbled emotions to his sympathetic ear.  
  
For every week after that, you met with Rose for tea in a sort of two-woman book club, discussing everything from her fledgling writing project to current trends in fashion design to landscaping. But you felt that even though you seemed to know so much about her, and her you, there was some final step you hadn't yet taken. You were afraid that you weren't clear enough about the true depth of your interest in her, and that once again you would paint yourself into the corner of friendship, too cowardly to ever admit your intentions.  
  
Once, you didn't manage to shake Dave off your trail while going to the bookstore. You hadn't even realized he was there until he spoke up from behind an issue of Game Bro, in the chair next to yours, where you were sitting while waiting on Rose. "So where's this mystery girl of yours?" You dropped your fashion magazine in fright when you heard his voice. "And don't deny it, I've heard you gossiping in double time with Karkat at two in the morning." You didn't get the chance to answer him because Rose walked in, apologizing for being late. Your meddlesome friend had meanwhile disappeared, only to "accidentally" stumble upon the two of you in the cafe later. You grudgingly introduced Rose to Dave, who took his cue from your glares, and left, but not before flashing you a thumbs up. You tried not to perish from horror.  
  
But now, you wonder if you should thank him for being, frankly, kind of weird and stalking you that day. Because if he hadn't pushed you to talk to Rose, you wouldn't be swaying here gently in a mass of people with your hands on her hips. Rose's hands thrum with heat against your waist and you fight not to do anything utterly mortifying. Her hair is free from her normal headband, and she's wearing a long, dark dress that feels like velvet under your fingers. The beat of the music pulses through the floor and echoes in your bones and your heart. Occasionally, a stray partier pushes too close, but for the most part, you and Rose have a small circle of room to dance in. Your dance is really more of a steady rocking that really doesn't fit the music being blasted in this club, but you couldn't care less. Rose is barely pressed against you, but you feel every point of contact as clearly as a pinprick. You've been in this position for quite some time now, and it still hasn't lost its novelty to you, but you are slightly more calm, until Rose speaks up. Her smile is sly and slick with a hint of lipstick, and as the fingers of her right hand curl tighter she draws you in closer to whisper in your ear.  
  
Her voice is dark and sweet with promise. "I'll admit that I lied, Kanaya. I really can't dance. But I've got a multitude of other talents. Won't you let me show you?" She draws away and you are completely positive that your face cannot possibly hold any more blood than this. She smiles a little at your ridiculous blush, but her cheeks are also pleasingly tinted pink.  
  
You feel vaguely faint as you reply, but you speak with a surprising amount of confidence. "If you insist, I would be happy to oblige, Miss Lalonde. But I suggest we retire to more appropriate location. Also, those lines were terrible."  
  
She laughs brightly, disclaiming, "Yes, you'll have my favorite author Mr. Ampora to thank for those. I thought it would be worth a try, though." You haven't seen her laugh so openly around you before; the sound is huskier than you would have expected. It's exhilarating.   
  
"I guess I shouldn't be so quick to discount his works, since your seduction appears to be successful so far."  
  
You disengage yourself from her arms and take her hand instead; she allows you to lead her through the crowd toward the front door, to gather your things. The walk seems to take forever, as if the very air around you is syrup, pulling you back, away from your destination. Your heart is now practically hammering its way out of your chest, and the poor lighting paints a dreamy, unreal picture of the dancers coursing around you. Is any of this actually happening? But when you pass Jade dancing on the floor, she winks at you, which strengthens your resolve. Dave spots you by the door and gives you a thumbs up, just like weeks earlier. If he were closer, you're sure you would receive a fistbump.  
  
You help Rose fish her pink coat out of the fallen pile of garments on the closet floor, and you step out into the night. The stuffiness of the club dissipates under the chilly evening air, and you reach for Rose's hand again. Suddenly, outside the thrall of the earlier atmosphere and the slight haze of liquor, you are at ease again. You are no longer Kanaya The Confused Bar Patron and Rose isn't a Cryptic Seductress; you are Kanaya and Rose, personal book club maybe-more-than-friends who have been circling the same question for weeks, any of the infinite versions of "Would you like to meet me for dinner sometime," trying not to read too much into fleeting touches and lingering glances.  
  
You think maybe it's about time you ask that question. "Would you mind terribly if I kissed you now?"  
  
"I can't say that I would mind at all." And with that, she leans up slightly as you bend down to meet her. She is soft and a bit cold, but the press of her lips is firm and she tastes somewhat like vanilla. Your first kiss with her is not mindblowing, but it is undeniably satisfying, and you pull away with reluctance. The chill has deepened the pink flush of her face and her hair is askew. You would really like to kiss her again, but it wouldn't do to catch a cold in the process.  
  
"Shall we continue elsewhere? I have a large assortment of teas and a warm blanket and bed in my apartment," you inform her. You're not really sure what you're offering; you don't want to be too reserved, or too forward, but somehow you've managed to be both in one sentence. Goodness.  
  
Rose doesn't mind though. "Lead us away, then, Kanaya." She tugs you forward and you are on your way, to the comfort of your own home, to something new and brilliant and exciting that you've been slowly gravitating towards all along. You don't know where you're headed, but Rose's hand, holding steadily onto yours, reminds you that she wants to be there with you. It's time to find out what your future holds.


End file.
